"What have you seen of men? Back in the compound, I mean."
Oh, so he'd thought of another question? Well, I was more than happy to answer. I stood a little straighter and began to rummage through my mind for every experience I'd ever had with boys or men.
"We often shared meals. When I was younger, I would wrestle with them, but we got caught once, and I wasn't allowed to play with boys anymore."
He chuckled. "I imagine not. Tell me, do the Moles think you are a pretty girl?"
I slowly turned to face him. "I'm not sure. Beauty is a path to the Devil, you know. It wasn't something we were allowed to talk about."
In a single move, he stood, revealing that beneath the blankets was nothing more than man - and skin-hugging pants which covered only his groin and the tops of his legs. He walked right up to me, his chest close enough I wouldn't even have to reach out to touch him. Then he looked down. He stood much too close to me, the same way he had when he'd given me the first weapon lesson. Zasen's body was so close we were almost touching, and his size was definitely intimidating. Behind him, his tail flicked wickedly.
"Moles are stupid. You're a very pretty girl, and that dress doesn't hurt at all." He smiled, and then headed up the hall.
Only after he'd left did I dare to breathe. I didn't know why, but he'd just made my heart race and my hands shake, yet I didn't feel afraid. I stood there for a moment, trying to understand this new world I lived in, then gave up and hurried to get that glass of tea. My mouth was even drier than it had been when I woke.
I was still standing at the counter when Zasen walked in behind me. The click of his toes was the first hint - a clue he was still groggy from sleep too, since he was often silent - but his soft laughter was the second. That was something all the Dragons did. All my life, I'd been taught these people were evil, but they found joy in so many little things. Things the Moles would never let women enjoy.
"What is funny this time?" I asked, looking back.
"I do believe that you are no longer orin," he said. "You, Ayla, have gotten a tan, and it brought out the freckles on your shoulders." Then he looked over my head and leaned closer, his chest pressing against the side of my body.
"Zasen," I hissed, slipping away.
He pulled down a glass and filled it from the pitcher of iced tea I'd been hoarding. "So timid. Would it help if I assured you I'm not touching you?"
Decades of training fell out of my mouth. "But you're supposed to maintain a proper distance."
He set the glass down, his face no longer amused, and stepped closer. "And how far is that? Arm's length? Yours or mine?" His tail whipped behind him. "We're not in the compound, Ayla. Up here, people sometimes touch, and it's allowed."
"I'm trying!"
"I know," he promised, ducking his head to meet my eyes. "And I'm pushing. I will keep pushing, and every time you think something is improper, we are going to talk about it."
"I’m sorry…" My eyes dropped submissively.
"This." He pointed at the floor. "Is our house. Yes, I'm wearing my underwear. When we're hunting, we wear less. The leather of our loincloths don't alert the animals, while the chemicals we use to dye our fabrics often do. Our skin patterns are the best camouflage we have, and less coverage means we can get closer before being spotted." He tilted his head. "And this is my home. The one place I can be comfortable, not needing to worry about what I'm wearing. Ayla, I'm pretty comfortable with what I am and what I show off. Can you say the same?"
"No."
That made him pause. "No?"
"I never wanted to be a woman." I huffed out my breath, daring him to contradict me.
Zasen shook his head. "Why not? No." He lifted a hand. "Stupid question. Here, there's nothing wrong with it. Down there, it's a whole different story." He took a steadying breath. "Ayla, I don't know your rules. I'm trying, but you're going to have to help."
"With what?"
"Show me how to make you feel comfortable. Stop panicking and start talking. How far do I need to stay away from you?" He took one more step towards me. "Is this too close?" He took another. "How about this?" On the third, his chest was brushing against mine. "Or this?"
"That's improper." My voice was meek and breathless.
He smiled. "That doesn't tell me if you want me to step back." He bent towards me, his mouth by my ear. "Want. I'm pretty sure that word has a specific meaning in both of our languages. There are no Moles here to yell at you for being shameful. There are no husbands to beat you for acting improper. There's just you and me."
I nodded, my head bobbing quickly. "I think I'm scared."
"Why?"
My eyes flicked between his orange ones. "Because my heart is beating really fast."
Zasen took my hand, moving gently, and lifted it to his chest. Beneath my palm, I could feel his pulse pounding like a drum. The tempo matched my own. "Like that?" I nodded and he released me, but I didn't pull away. That made him smile. "It's not always fear, Ayla. Sometimes, it's excitement. You're the first Mole I've been this close to while it was alive. I'm pretty sure you still aren't used to Dragons - or men."
I let my fingers trace the line where his skin faded from nearly-black green to a deep grey. "It doesn't feel like scales."
"Move your hand up, against the grain. They're scales. Smooth, like a snake, but they are scales."
Sliding my fingers from his chest to his shoulder, I felt the edges, but only barely. "What does it feel like?"
"Like the only thing I've ever known." He reached up to stroke my cheek. "What does yours feel like?"
I smiled and ducked my head. "Like me."
He lifted my chin. "I've always been curious about the tiny hairs." He swiped his thumb along my jaw. "Can you feel them?"
"No."
"Still scared?"
I smiled, looking at him easily for the first time. "No."
